


More Beautiful Things Await You

by providing_leverage



Series: Short stuff [9]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec is kinda like Artemis here, Aline Helen and Underhill are mentioned, Maia is human in the beginning, divinity au, god AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:07:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22640764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/providing_leverage/pseuds/providing_leverage
Summary: As her would be husband steps closer, murder in his eyes, Maia begins to pray.The gods had not listened to her as a child, as a young woman who'd caught the eye of a spoiled and cruel prince. They had not listened when she whispered for salvation and a way out of her engagement.But this time the gods listen. One god at least.
Series: Short stuff [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1477400
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	More Beautiful Things Await You

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically part of a larger universe that lives, for now, just in my head, so I'm not making a new series. Maybe someday I'll write the rest of it...

  


The woods were dark, the moon only half full above. She was barefoot as she ran through the trees, half blind and in so much pain. From the rough ground, the branches scraping her arms. The wedding dress hadn't exactly been designed for running.

  


But Maia kept running, pressing down the pain and panic. Kept running even when she heard hooves following her, men on horseback. They had not caught her yet because of the brush, but they would soon.

  


Then she tripped, her foot hitting a rock protruding from the ground that she hadn't seen in time. Maia went down, and by the time she scrambled to her feet, they were on her.

  


Five mounted men surrounded her, blocking every way she could run. They part only to let one man through, who handed the reigns of his horse to one of his men. 

  


As her would be husband steps closer, murder in his eyes, Maia begins to pray. 

  


The gods had not listened to her as a child, as a young woman who'd caught the eye of a spoiled and cruel prince. They had not listened when she whispered for salvation and a way out of her engagement. 

  


Maia had been forced to take action into her own hands, and that had gotten her as far as this. 

  


But this time the gods listen. One god at least. Because she closes her eyes on the ground of a dark forest, mutters one last prayer, and opens them in a throne room.

  


Not like Jordan's ornate hall, decked out in gold and jewels and was there only to show off his family's wealth.

  


This chamber was simple but exquisite. The wealth of the owner shows in the craftsmanship of the weapons arranged on the walls alongside bones. A fire roared to her left, on the mantle a stack of real, printed books.

  


But it's to the throne directly in front of her, and the man on it, that her attention was drawn.

  


No. To call him a man is incorrect. He is not a man, not with his breathtaking beauty. Not sitting as he did on a wooden throne, a falcon perched on the back. 

  


He can not be a man and wear a cloak of the night sky, stars shimmering like diamonds on the black. The moon hung from his neck on a leather cord.

  


Maia was already on her knees, but now she leans down her press her forehead to the bearskin rug below her. "Your Excellency."

  


"Rise," Orders the Lord of the Night, God of the Hunt. "Rise and face me. You called and I listened. Ask it."

  


Her whole body shaking, Maia rose to her feet. Alexander wears a simple green tunic and black pants, but she feels woefully underdressed in her tattered white gown. "Why-why did you save me?"

  


Not from a marriage. After running from their wedding, there was no way Jordan would do anything but kill her. She'd humiliated him in front of his whole court.

  


"I have not saved you." Alexander says calmly. Almost coldly. "And o do not intend to save you. I will, however, give you the tools you need to save yourself." He waves a hand and in front of her appears a dark green cloak, a sheathed knife, and a moon pendant much like the one he wears around his own neck.

  


"You have drawn my interest Maia Roberts. Consider this a trial, a test." The Lord of the Night shifts, resting his head on one fist, elbow propped on the arm of his chair. "Kill the men if you wish, kill your finance. Or let them live. I do not care. However you do it, prove that bright burning spirit and spine of steel I see in you. Enact your revenge, and if I'm satisfied, you will be one of mine and welcomed into my ranks."

  


"What." She says, because she can't believe what she's hearing. Because she must be misunderstanding.

  


Alexander does not grow angry and snap at her like the all men she's known before, all the men she's questioned before. But again, he is not really a man. "Unless you are not interested. In that case, take the knife but leave the rest. Those are the mantles of a great hunter, and would mark you as a member of my Wild Hunt."

  


She thinks she must be dreaming, or perhaps already dead. Surely this wasn't truly happening. 

  


Every child grew up on stories of the Wild Hunt, and the other tales of their gods. The Wild Hunt were those chosen to ride next to the Lord of the Hunt, to do his bidding and accompany him wherever the god went. 

  


Dream or no, there was only one thing she could do. "I accept your offer."

  


"Then take your tools and leave, Maia Roberts." When she has done that, she blinks. Just like she'd arrived, she's gone.

  


Back in the forest, men all around her, Jordan coming forward to grab her roughly by the arm. 

  


"Do you know how much-" he begins to snarl, stopping abruptly. His eyes grow wide, focusing on the moon shaped pendant around her neck. "Oh gods-"

  


He never finishes the prayer.

* * *

The Lord of the Hunt may reside in his stone and wood Manor in the middle of the Infinite Forest, but he hunted far and wide. Not just on the continent and surrounding isles of Alicante where he and his pantheon ruled, but all over the world at the invite of those land's gods and goddesses. 

  


As one of his servants, Maia hunts those lands as well. She and the other men and women who were once human ride beside him, hounds at their horses heels, falcons in the air above her.

  


She sleeps under a blanket of state most nights, the pendant around her neck glowing in response to the true moon above them. She makes friends with Aline, Helen, Andrew, and several other hunters. 

  


Each day is a new and different adventure. Lord and creator of hunting, Alexander was rarely happy with creatures like bears and boars as his prey.

  


Instead they search far and wide for creatures humans only whisper of. Before Maia would never have been able to keep up with, much less survive a good deal of their hunts. 

  


But after she'd taken her revenge on those who had hurt her, she'd knelt in front of Alexander's throne and sworn an oath. With it came strength and abilities far superior to an ordinary human being.

  


Humans had first been shaped from a bit of clay and fire, by the hands of Lady Isabelle the Creator. This was a story everyone in Alicante learned in their crib. She had made humans first, then all the fish in the sea, birds in the air, and the animals in the forests.

  


A less well known story was what she'd made first. Forged not with clay and fire but her own blood and bones. Creatures that were, legend had it, powerful enough to wound or even kill one of the Divinity. 

  


The rest of her pantheon feared these creatures and ordered her to never make more, though Lady Isabelle was able to talk then out of killing them. Instead they were exiled to the corners of the world.

  


One such creature was what they hunted now.

  


Through the desert lands of Baseria, the swamps marshes of Court, and finally back into the familiar territory of the mountain ranges along the south border of Alicante.

  


For three weeks they tracked, getting close many times but never close enough. Of course, Alexander could have simply raised his sacred bow, made by the Creator herself, and thought of the beast. Once he let go the arrow would find it's mark true in the dragon's heart, regardless of the distance between them.

  


But that was too easy. He was god of the hunt and took pleasure in this challenge, this thing shaped by his sister's hands was a worthy opponent at last. 

  


Maia had never seen her Lord so excited and humming with energy than the three weeks they hunted that beast. 

  


Three weeks that may have seemed long to her before she joined the Wild Hunt but now time had less of a hold on her.

  


Semi immortality aside, she was still upset about the waste when Alexander received a raven from the Lord of Bloodshed.

  


"A war is coming." He announces to them that night when they've made camp and easily shot down some wild turkey to roast. "Brewing between two kingdoms in the east, one of which is under my protection. Johnathan Christopher has called me to a summit to discuss this war. I am afraid this beast will have to wait for another day."

  


Their talk is a bit more subdued after the announcement. Without the anticipation of the kill to come, their exhaustion takes over. Maia brushes down her horse and tosses meat to the hunting hounds in silence. Her eyes, time and time again, are drawn to the sky where she'd seen the dragon hours before. 

  


It had been beautiful and deadly and she wanted so badly to follow it still. Maia was not ready to give this up.

  


Before she's even realized that her mind is made up, Maia's feet are carrying her to the tent set up in the center of their camp. It's one of only four, since it's spring and most of the hunters prefer to sleep outside in the elements.

  


Lord Alexander is sitting cross legged on a blanket, sharpening his knives. He barely looks up at her, just nods to the space in front of him. She obliges, coping his pose.

  


"I suspected it would come to this, though I admit I thought more would come, and sooner." He says in that ever calm voice of his, still running the whetstone over a dagger.

  


Maia blinks, surprised that he knows, even if she shouldn't be. Her Lord knows them all very well, has made an effort to. "So you know what I want?"

  


"I know what you need." He corrects. "The Hunt has caught a hold of you, and until you see it filled, will never let you go. You will never be capable of focusing truly on anything but the dragon, and a divided mind is dangerous."

  


"You know how I feel? And you will let me continue, even while you have to go?"

  


"Of course I know how it feels," he spreads his arms wide, smiling, a twinkle in his eye. "I am God of the Hunt, after all. I have felt the same way many times, and have become better at ignoring it. It will hurt to not see this Hunt to the end, but I give you permission to do so in my steed.

  


"I will warn you that it will be very dangerous, more so than anything you have taken on by my side. Without me… But I am confident in your abilities Maia. Tomorrow I must depart but you will stay and finish this. May your mind be clear and your feet swift."

  


"Thank you my Lord." Maia rises to get feet and bows, then heads to her bedroll. 

  


She's going to need all the sleep she can get.

* * *

It takes her another week to finally corner her prey. They've exited the mountain range and entered a thick forest. Maia had been forced to leave her horse because of the lack of any kind of trail. 

  


They met face to face in a clearing with a lake in the middle.

  


The dragon was three times her height, the wings blocking out the sun when spread. The scales change color to blend with the environment behind it, the most effective camouflage Maia has ever seen.

  


That, and it's speed in the air had been the main cause of their trouble finding it. 

  


Really finding it had been the easiest thing about this hunt.

  


Maia had brought her full quiver and three spears. All of those break against the dragon's hide. 

  


Her light leather armor goes next, melting under the dragon's venum.

  


In the end, she's forced to draw her sword and get in close. The battle lasts hours, until exhaustion makes them both sloppy.

  


She's sure that if her sword had not been given to her by Alexander, and likely forged by Isabelle herself, it would be nothing but a bee sting to the great horned creature.

  


Instead she cuts gashes in it's legs and tail, and once the neck. It bleeds gold like the Divinity, since the Lady Creature used her own blood and not fire when she built this creature.

  


The blood gets all over her, into her mouth and her own cuts. She expects it to taste horrible, like mortal blood. Instead it tastes like tea with too much honey and overly sweet fruit.

  


The sun has set and the stars come out when she finally,  _ finally  _ delivers the killing blow. Into the chest and through the heart.

  


Mortal or no, some things are constant. 

  


Maia collapses next to her prize, blade dropping from her hand. A bit of her cries in despair of having rid the world or such a powerful and beautiful thing, but a larger part screams in triumph and pride. 

  


She lays there and watches the clouds float by, let's her eyes drift closed.

  


Her dreams are not made of shapes and actions but wild colors and music. Of pain and power and desire and pleasure.

  


She awakes and feels stronger than she has ever. Even those first few weeks in the Hunt, accidentally breaking things, unaccustomed to the strength that had been granted to her.

  


Maia rises to her feel easily, lays one hand on the body of the dragon she had slain. With the other she removes the necklace she still wears, throws the moon carving down on the ground and thinks of home.

  


Smoke rises up and envelopes them in.

When the smoke clears Maia is in the meal hall of Alexander's mansion. The normal long tables have been cleared aside, leaving only one.

  


Alexander rises to his feet, dressed in battle armor, meaning the kingdom he was backing must have indeed gone to war. The blond haired God of Bloodshed, who Maia has met many times, also rises.

  


One stays sitting. She's never talked to him, has seen him before at a few parties. He's obviously divinity with the pure power he gives off. The harp in his hands marks him as Simon, God of Song and Music, and one of the Made. 

  


"Maia." Her Lord, normally so composed and calm, sounds... amazed. Awed even. "I'll admit, I did not expect to see you again, though it pained me greatly. I am glad to see you alive."

  


Simon laughs before she can respond. "Alive? Alec, look again, she is much more than alive. She is  _ reborn."  _ The god faces her with a smile. "It's good to meet you. I'm delighted to have some new blood. The last one to ascend was Clary, and that was around two hundred years ago."

  


She stares at him, sure he's mistaken. "Ascend? New blood?"

  


Before she can question further, the Lord of Music is beside her, taking her wrist gently in one warm hand. With a small blade he'd pulled from nowhere, he makes a shallow cut.

  


She winces more from habit than actual pain. Maia watches unbelieving as her blood wells up. Not red, but gold.

  


"Impressive," Johnathan Christopher eyes the beast still by her side and taking up half the hall. "I believe that's one of the first Izzy ever made. No wonder slaying it was a feat great enough for ascension."

  


"I'm divinity now." Maia says, tone disbelieving. But no matter how crazy it was, her heart beat  _ yes, yes, yes. This is the truth, this is fate, this is what is owed. _

  


"How unexpected. Do you know your domain?" Alexander sounds steady again, recovered from the surprise.

  


She does. Somehow she does. Maia tells him.

  


"Then let me be the first to welcome you to our pantheon Lady Maia, Goddess of Beasts and the wild places of this world."

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Can we all agree that it's just like me to not lose for a month then post twice in a week?


End file.
